


Finally

by hufflecas



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Blow Jobs, Canon Compliant, Crack, Fucking with clothes on, Gags, Glasses, Hand Jobs, Hurt/Comfort, Just a little Crack, Light Bondage, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Professor!Cas, Sam Ships It, Season 9, Shower Sex, Tattoos, Teacher!Dean, Ties, Wings, a mention of beheading, bottom!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-12
Updated: 2014-05-12
Packaged: 2018-01-24 11:21:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,506
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1603316
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hufflecas/pseuds/hufflecas
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dean comes back from a hunt with Castiel a little more shaken than usual. Fortunately, Cas is there to pick up the pieces.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Finally

**Author's Note:**

  * For [1337nik](https://archiveofourown.org/users/1337nik/gifts).



> It's [Jessi's](1337nik.tumblr.com) birthday today. She has some kinks. Here are ~~all~~ most of them. ~~I tried!~~ Enjoy, bb!
> 
> Thanks to the sleepy [Gabriel](myalphasensesaretingling.tumblr.com) for letting me keep her up long enough to beta this thing.
> 
> **This takes place in a magical post-Season 9 land where Cas has gotten his wings back and everyone’s happy and everything’s fine. More or less.

It had been a particularly harrowing hunt.

Dean had never known shifters to eat children before but lucky for him there was a first time for everything. This son of a bitch had made itself comfortable at an elementary school and had been picking off the more troubled kids one by one for some time. The reason it had taken so long for anyone to report any missing children was that the school’s score rating had actually gone up since the underachievers had disappeared. It was pretty fucked up.

After the fourth kid had gone missing Dean went undercover as a fourth grade substitute teacher. They were only in the school for three days before they caught the fucker, which was good because there was no way Dean was marking thirty book reports on Charlotte’s Web.

Cas went with him because, well, Cas wouldn’t take no for an answer. Sam had been called away at the last minute by Charlie for some minor Oz-related emergency and Cas insisted on being Dean’s “second.”

It was a pretty cut-and-dry case until the shifter had gotten wise to them. When Cas came into Dean’s classroom after hours Dean knew it wasn’t Cas. He’d looked like Cas, and he’d even moved like Cas, but something was off. When he had to take the thing’s head off he knew it was what he had to do, but damn if it didn’t twist something in his gut that the thing looked like Cas at the time.

Dean is still covered in blood when they roll into the bunker hours later, after midnight.

“Dean, there’s no need for you to remain covered in viscera; you know I have my grace back now.”

“It’s fine, Cas.” Dean shrugs off his jacket, now stiff with dried blood, and flings it over the back of the nearest chair. “Just leave it.”

But Cas won’t. Dean hasn’t talked for most of the car ride home, and he isn’t talking now. So when he stalks off into the shower room and locks the door behind him Cas isn’t having any of it.

“Dammit Cas!” Dean practically shouts when Cas materializes behind him. “Think you’re ever gonna stop doing that?”

Cas’ voice is steely. “Not when you keep avoiding me.” His eyes dart down Dean’s t-shirt-covered chest, which is stained dark. “This isn’t only the shifter’s blood.” Without hesitation he lifts the hem of Dean’s shirt up to reveal an angry cut stretching over his abdomen. “You’re hurt.”

Dean jerks away from Castiel’s touch. “Yeah, I noticed. Now are you going to let me clean up or not?”

“Dean, why are you being like this? Let me heal you.”

“I can deal with the pain, Cas, it’s fine.”

“Dean--”

“I just don’t want you to use too much of your mojo too fast, okay? I mean, what if your grace isn’t actually back?”

“Dean…Is this about what happened on the hunt? When you had to decapitate the shifter that looked like me?”

“It just wasn’t a good visual for me, okay?”

“Dean…” Cas returns his hand to Dean’s chest then, gingerly sliding his palm under the stiff t-shirt. Dean feels a cool rush spread out from the flat of Castiel’s palm, and the hot sting of his wound fades away. In the same moment his shirt is suddenly gone and he knows Castiel is responsible for that as well.

“Cas, what are you--”

“Be quiet Dean. I wish to show you something. It will simply be easier with your shirt off.”

Dean’s eyebrows raise at that, but he voices no protest.

Cas’ hands press Dean’s head against his shoulder as he draws Dean in tight with his arms. “Close your eyes.”

Dean doesn’t question the command. It’s so easy to not question anything and just surrender. The rush comes all at once; cool and prickly and unpleasant and comforting. He rolls his shoulders back into the sensation, and his skin brushes against feathers. “Cas--” his breath comes out broken. “These are--”

“My wings, yes. You mustn’t look at them,” Castiel says unnecessarily.

The first thought in Dean’s head is to snark back at him but the notion dies quickly as he gives himself over to the moment. “They’re back,” he says quietly. “You didn’t tell me.”

“It wasn’t relevant until now.”

“So why tell me now, huh?” Dean clutches closer into Cas’s shoulder, breathing in the dusty wool scent of his ugly sweater vest and the unidentifiable crackle of his grace. Even with his eyes clenched shut he can see spots and blotches, like he’d been pressing his knuckles against his eyelids. The entire room vibrates ever so slightly, although Dean can’t tell if it’s the building or just his own body that’s buzzing.

“Because today it became apparent to me that you need to know that I’m not going anywhere. That I’m okay.”

Dean pulls back suddenly, and Cas quickly conceals his wings in response before Dean opens his eyes again. “But you’re not trapped any more. You’ve got your wings back-- why bother hanging around here?”

Cas’ eyes narrow as they bore into Dean’s. “You still don’t get it, do you?” Determination flashes across the angel’s face then, and for a moment Dean thinks he’s done something wrong. He’s fucked up again, and Cas is angry with him.

So Dean’s not expecting it when Cas grasps his jaw in both his hands, and brings Dean’s lips to his.

With that, the floodgate opens. Five years’ worth of stolen glances and lingering touches come coursing through Dean and there’s nothing he can do to stop it. He crashes his lips against Castiel’s and he’s more than willing to let himself get lost in the moment until his cheek comes crashing against the glasses that Castiel is still wearing as a part of his school disguise.

Dean pulls back from Cas again, then, and gingerly lifts the frames off of Castiel’s face. “I don’t think you’re gonna need these anymore.

Cas responds only by not tearing his eyes away from Dean’s as he sets the glasses down on the edge of the sink.

“Why did you go for the professor look anyway? It was an elementary school, for Christ’s sake.”

“I didn’t hear you complaining,” A coy look comes over Cas’ face, “and I thought the stares you kept giving me when you thought I wasn’t looking were rather encouraging.”

“Well, they look good on you. It’s not my fault.”

Dean lets his hands move next to the tie around Castiel’s neck, working the knot undone. Castiel is patient while he does this, lifting his chin slightly. When Dean pulls the tie slowly out from the collar Castiel kisses Dean again and guides him to the nearest wall. A moan escapes Dean’s lips as he thuds against the wall with Castiel’s weight on top of him, hips grinding down into his.

The tie slides to the floor and is forgotten for the moment as Dean focuses instead on pressing all of himself into Cas. He bucks his hips up into Cas, now painfully aware of his rapidly hardening cock. He ruts against the angel, reveling in the friction the motion provides. Castiel trails his kisses down along Dean’s jaw, nibbling with his teeth every so often. When he reaches Dean’s collarbone he bites, not hard enough to break skin but it will probably show some colour.

“One mark wasn’t enough for you?” The handprint scar has long since faded, but Dean still thinks of the brand often.

“You’re mine,” Castiel growls.

The words go straight to Dean’s dick but he can do little more than keen in want as Castiel chooses that moment to unzip Dean’s pants. He palms Dean’s erection through his boxers, first.

“Dean,” he presses a wet kiss to the hollow of Dean’s throat, “if you don’t want this, just say so.”

“What about this picture,” Dean gestures to himself, hair mussed, red-faced, and his hard dick half out of his pants, “gives you that idea at all?”

Dean’s fingers barely hesitate at all as he unzips Cas’ slacks. He reaches inside and takes Castiel’s cock in his hand fully. He’s never touched another man like this but it’s not so strange. It’s just Cas.

Cas leans into Dean’s touch and thrusts into his hand at the same time that he pulls Dean’s erection from his shorts. They jerk each other off for a time, Castiel running filthy kisses up and down Dean’s neck. The wool of Cas’ sweater is scratchy against Dean’s bare chest but he doesn’t mind it. Every nerve is burning, and it feels like all his synapses are firing at once. The overload of sensation is almost too much for Dean to take. He doesn’t want to come yet so he releases his cock and slides his hands under Castiel’s shirt. He feels along the expanse of Cas’ back, the muscles rippling beneath his hot skin.

Obviously Cas doesn’t get the message because he takes up both of them in his hand easily. He slows down his pace at first and Dean tries to move in and out of Cas’ hand faster but Cas has got him pinned against the wall. When Cas does finally start to move his hand faster around the both of them, thumb swiping across their tips, smearing beads of precome together, Dean knows he isn’t going to last much longer. He comes in Cas’ hand then, breathing hard.

As Dean comes down from his orgasm he kisses tenderly. “You know,” he starts, “I want to have you… all of you.”

“And I you.” The reply is serious, as if it weren’t being spoken by someone with a flushed face, his hard dick still in his hands.

“But, I was already pretty gross from the hunt. And now,” Dean gestures at the come spattered on his belly, “it’s kind of worse.”

“Well,” Castiel begins thoughtfully, “we are in the shower room.”

“My thoughts exactly.” Dean grins as he lifts Cas’ sweater up and over his head, dropping it to the floor. He works on the buttons next, one by one.

Cas takes his cock in his hand again, still apparently achingly hard. Dean suspects angelic stamina may be playing a role. Angelic patience, however, is another matter.

“Dean--“ Castiel starts, his voice burning with want, his eyes closed as he languidly strokes himself.

“I know Cas, I know.” Dean divests them of the rest of their clothes slowly, piece by piece, purring soothing whispers into Cas’ ear as he continues to mouth at Dean’s skin.

Finally boots are being kicked off and Dean leads Cas away from the sink.

“Shower, now. Come on.” Castiel follows Dean into the nearest stall as he starts the water, and turns it up almost too hot. Dean feels the relief flow through his whole body as the spray hits him. He guides Castiel under the water and soaps up his back and chest, washing away three days’ worth of sweat and fear and stress. Cas turns towards Dean and, taking the soap from him, lathers up Dean’s chest, rinsing off the last of blood that had dried there.

They wash each other back and forth, one’s hands always touching the other’s skin somehow.

When Cas dances his fingers down the length of his spine Dean can feel his cock twitch back to life. Dean turns so he’s facing Cas and places both his hands on Cas’ shoulders. “Here,” he says, stepping closer and planting a kiss on Cas’ open mouth. “Let me take care of you.” Careful to not slip, Dean lowers himself to his knees, hands reverent over Cas’ chest. His thumb skirts the Enochian sigil tattooed into his hip, and Dean nips the sensitive area.

Castiel’s cock is hard just beneath his face. There’s a small bead of precome leaking from the tip. Tentative and curious Dean leans down and licks the head once. The moan Castiel gives above him is more than enough encouragement for Dean to take more of him in his mouth. Avoiding the spray of the shower in his face, Dean settles in on his knees comfortably, and begins moving back and forth along Castiel’s length.

He’s never given a blowjob before, but he’s received plenty, and he thinks about what he likes. He runs his left hand up along the inside of Cas’ thigh before spreading his hand around Cas’ balls, fondling and squeezing them slightly. He speeds up then, swiping his tongue around Cas’ shaft every now and then. Castiel threads his fingers through Dean’s hair, tugging slightly. Dean is proud of each and every noise and sigh he elicits from Castiel, but he has too much need in his own body.

“I want you to fuck me,” Dean gasps, as he pulls away from Castiel’s cock just long enough to speak. The statement surprises him more than it apparently does to Cas.

“Yes,” Castiel growls his assent and the sound of his voice reverberates through Dean’s dick, making the formation of words that much harder.

Dean stands up then, turning off the water and grabbing a towel for each of them. After drying off only briefly Dean leads the way to the benches across from the shower stalls. He lays his towel down across one of them and climbs on his hands and knees.

“There’s lube under the sink,” Dean gestures to a cupboard underneath one of the mirrors. “In the back, behind the extra shampoo. Get me ready.”

Castiel fetches the small bottle, not questioning its presence in the bathroom beyond a slight raise of his eyebrows. He flips the cap open and squirts some on his fingers before caressing Dean’s back and shoulders, nails scratching ever so slightly, with his other hand. Dean reacts to one finger skirting the edge of his hole with a sharp intake of breath. The lube is cold, but warms up after a few moments. Castiel leans forward over Dean’s to pepper his back with kisses, working his way up to Dean’s neck. Cas sucks on Dean’s earlobe and bites down not that gently at the same moment his first knuckle breaches Dean. A whine escapes Dean. The intrusion is painful, initially, but it very quickly becomes a good kind of hurt.

When Castiel slides the rest of his finger in Dean’s breath hitches, and when he slides a second in beside it, Dean cries out. Cas lets his fingers sit there for a few minutes and kisses Dean, letting his body adjust.

“C’mon Cas,” Dean groans, “help me out here. You gotta move ‘em.”

Castiel obliges, sliding his two fingers in and out of Dean’s hole slowly, deliberately. When he begins to scissor his fingers inside Dean he keens again, a long drawn-out sound.

The sound of a door slamming down the hall snaps Dean out of the moment. “Shit,” he says, “Sam’s home.”

“You’re worried he will hear us.”

“Well,” Dean begins, “sort of.” He knows Sam has heard him having sex countless times over the years, with this waitress or that barmaid, the thin walls of cheap motels never quite doing their job of keeping unwanted sounds out. But this is so much uncharted territory that Dean doesn’t know how to approach it.

“You are making an awful lot of noise.” Castiel’s face remains impassive but a mischievous look in his eyes gives him away.

“Oh yeah?” Dean says, challenging.

“I think we can fix that.” Castiel opens his hand and his discarded tie from earlier is there, looking deceptively innocent. 

Dean realises what Cas intends, and is maybe a little thrilled about it. There’s just one thing he needs to say before he can’t speak anymore.

“Shouldn’t we, uh, get a condom? I’m sure I’ve got some around somewhere.” As unappealing as the idea of leaving the shower room to go hunt down a pack of rubbers is, the thought of doing something intrinsically thoughtless and stupid is worse.

“I can tell you that this body carries no diseases,” he says, his blue eyes burning into Dean’s. “And if you tell me that you are healthy as well then you know I will take you at your word.”

“I am, I’m clean.”

“Then the choice is yours.”

Dean contemplates it for a second. He’s worn a condom probably hundreds of times, but he has no idea what it would feel like to be penetrated with one. Not that it would likely make that much of a difference. “I trust you. And I really don’t want to leave this room right now.”

“Whatever you say, Dean.” Castiel plants a kiss in the centre of Dean’s back. It is innocent and sweet, but still sends sparks roaring through Dean’s body. “Tilt your head back, and open your mouth.”

Dean would never admit to liking being bossed around in bed, and being told what to do, but he always sort of has. So whether Cas knows or he’s just lucky Dean follows the direction easily. Castiel places the tie laterally in Dean’s mouth, and ties it securely behind his head once it’s taut.

“That’s not too tight?”

Dean shakes his head no.

Apparently Castiel is satisfied he’s worked Dean open as much as he needs to, as the next thing Dean can hear is the lube bottle being opened and squeezed again. He hears a slick skin-on-skin sound, before feeling the blunt head of Castiel’s cock at his opening.

Dean thought that two of Cas’ fingers inside him burned, but it’s nothing compared to Castiel pushing his cock inside Dean. He arches his back, lifting his face skyward, as he attempts to not make a sound so loud it defeats the purpose of their makeshift gag.

Cas wraps the tie around his wrist once more, tightening the slack just so. The nails of his other hand dig into the flesh of Dean’s hip.

As he adjusts to feeling filled, Dean rolls his hips back towards Cas, hopefully indicating his need for more. Castiel obliges, and slides in the rest of the way. Dean’s cock is fully hard again, and feeling woefully neglected. He makes to shift his weight, support himself on one hand, so he can touch himself but Castiel stops him.

“Allow me. It’s better if you’re able to brace yourself.” Cas releases his end of the tie then, and snakes his hand down Dean’s side. He spits in his palm before taking Dean in his grip. He thrusts slowly at first and is soon pumping Dean’s cock in time as he fucks him. 

Dean’s breaths are coming and fits and gasps and when Cas whispers into his ear, “Come for me, Dean,” and it’s all he can take before he shoots all over Cas’ hand and the towel beneath him, a muffled scream caught in the tie gagging his mouth, fingers clenching around the edge of the bench. Cas is finally not far behind, and Dean doesn’t know how he’s been able to hold out this long. Dean knows when Cas is going to come because his rhythm becomes erratic, and the force of his thrusts nearly buck Dean off the front of the bench.

“Dean!” Cas shouts his name as more of a groan and less an actual word.

So much for being quiet.

***

When Dean wakes the next morning it's in a tangle of limbs. It takes him a few moments to realise that some of those limbs belong to Cas. He looks at the other man (he is so much more than a man) sleeping peacefully. He remembers the previous night and feels a rush of exhilaration, despite being only moments out of sleep. 

Wondering what time it is, Dean fumbles for his cell phone on the bedside table. It’s nearly noon, and he has three unread text messages.

_From: Sam_  
Sent: 12:46 am  
Message: Took you guys long enough. 

Dean resists an urge to fall back onto the bed, hide his face under the pillows, and never emerge again. He scrolls to the next two message.

_From: Sam_  
Sent: 9:17 am  
Message: Again, really happy for you guys but next time can you not leave your empty lube bottles and crusty towels all over the place? Don’t need to know where you’ve been. 

_From: Sam_  
Sent: 9:19 am  
Message: But I love you and I’m happy you’re happy. Just don’t be gross. 

A sleepy (are angels even supposed to get sleepy?) Castiel chooses that moment to crawl up behind Dean, hooking his chin onto Dean’s shoulder. “What’s that?” he mumbles sleepily. Dean swears he can hear the squint in Cas’ eyes.

“Well,” Dean says, “We don’t have to tell Sam.”

“Good,” Cas says decisively.

“Oh?”

“Because that means more time that you don’t have to leave this bed.” With that Castiel rolls his body on top of Dean, kissing him deeply and rolling his hips down. He’s hard already. Dean can tell it’s going to be a long day.

Not that he minds one bit.


End file.
